Guarding the Memory
by Caidreabh
Summary: When Grissom and Sara are taken to DC on a case, they stop by a famous tourist attraction that holds special meaning for Grissom.


Title: Guarding the Memory  
  
Author: Laura/Caidreabh  
  
Category: Vignette, Grissom/Sara UST, sort of  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Grissom and Sara end up in DC to do some work on a case, and Grissom takes Sara to visit a famous tourist attraction that holds special meaning to him.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of it's characters. I just have some fun with them now and again.  
  
Author's notes: I wrote this in my head when I was doing exactly what Sara and Grissom are doing. I didn't write it down until sometime in June, but I didn't finish it until a couple months after that. So it's been a long time in the making. It is, however, pulling at me to make it into a casefic. I might, depending on my mood. So it's a vignette for now, but who knows what it'll be given a couple more months' time.  
  
Thanks: I don't really use betas, but I'd like to thank the 'A'cademy: Andi, Amber, 'Anie, and 'Arita. Yay for the Geek Love, 1 am chats, and American Idol :D  
  
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Sara pretended to still be interested in the man pacing back and forth several feet in front of her. She let her attention slide to the rows and rows of white crosses and the people walking among them. Her hands played with the corners of a thick manila envelope, the documents it contained promising to be much more interesting than what she was presently doing. She glanced at the man sitting beside her. He seemed to be enthralled by what they were here to see-the soldier tirelessly guarding the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  
  
"Grissom? Why are we here?" she whispered, continuing to stare straight ahead, feeling uncomfortable talking in the solemn place.  
  
Grissom stopped watching the soldier and turned to look at her. "Because we're involved in a multi-jurisdictional case involving the death of a United States senator while he was vacationing in Vegas," he replied.  
  
Sara's face betrayed her exasperation. He knew that wasn't what she had been asking; he knew that she was already well-informed of the particulars of the case, had been through the documents several times already, and, now, as she ruffled their corners, longed to return to her work on them.  
  
"I mean, why are we here?" She punctuated her question by gesturing around her with her hands. "Don't we have enough death as it is?" With all that she handled dead bodies for a living, she still felt sensitive and vulnerable when walking through cemeteries-they reminded her how fleeting life could be. Some of the tombstones here were engraved with only one date. She had shuddered when she realized that the babies buried underneath hadn't lived to see the second day of their lives. "What do you do when you visit cemeteries, Sara?" Grissom asked. Great, Sara thought, another one of his riddles.  
  
"I don't, usually-I mean, I don't have any family or anything."  
  
"You visit victims, sometimes." Shit. He knew?  
  
Sara fought to play it off like she hadn't been hiding anything, then decided to give a straight answer. "I leave flowers. I talk to them. Tell them what's happening in the world. Ask them for advice." She paused a moment. "Sometimes." Sara amended her response hurriedly, hoping Grissom wouldn't think she was silly. Why'd he put her on this case, anyway? Warrick would have been more qualified. Nicky would have appreciated the change of scenery more.  
  
Grissom sat in silence for a moment before he asked quietly, "Do you pary?"  
  
Sara almost laughed at the question. "No. I never have. Don't even know how."  
  
"Good. Neither do I." He shifted position on the marble step they were sitting on. "My mother used to, all the time. She visited her sister a lot. Her sister who wasn't really my aunt, because she died at 16. My mother would sit and pray the rosary."  
  
"Oh, I'm. sorry." Sara wasn't sure how to respond, and realized after she had said it that an apology wasn't really necessary.  
  
"Well, I never knew her."  
  
"What do you do when you visit cemeteries?"  
  
"I sit and think."  
  
"What does this have to do with why we're here, anyway?"  
  
"I remember talking to Doc Robbins once. He was joking about how he knew more Johns and Janes than probably anyone else in the world. The thing is that for every body found that we can ID, there's another that never gets its name back. Never gets a proper burial or someone reading them the 23rd Psalm. They never get any flowers. Or news updates. They're never asked for advice on cases."  
  
Sara looked at the ground, embarrassed.  
  
"In that tomb in front of us is an unknown body from every major war America was a part of. In death, they're celebrities. Just look at all the people here. And we'll never know their names."  
  
"Couldn't they run DNA tests?" Sara was surprised he, of all people, would overlook that option.  
  
"They could. But they don't want to."  
  
" I still don't see what this has to do with why we're here."  
  
She looked at the man sitting next to her. He was staring far off, lost in thought. She recognized that look, the one he good when he was lost in a case.  
  
"Grissom?" He didn't respond. She tapped him on his shoulder. "Grissom!" He seemed startled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What did all of that have to do with why we're here?"  
  
"Oh. Those bodies in that tomb over there?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"They represent all the unidentified bodies in our nation's militaries. All the great battles. But what about the little battles we lose? The homicides. The rapes. Those unidentified victims-well, I like to think those unknown soldiers symbolize them, too."  
  
"Oh," was all Sara had to say. That was so like him.  
  
A voice from off the far right startled the two investigators, and they rose with the rest of the crowd as the Changing of the Guard began. 


End file.
